Violent Delights
by mana massacre
Summary: He regrets having to kill her, but there's other feelings as well... Oneshot, AeriSeph.


_I don't want you to die, Aeris._

These words he spoke to her gently, so sweetly, so quietly. There was pain in his strong voice, as enigmatic and unreachable as the farest star, and as fragile and antiquated as a sheet of ice. He would be the one who would make her suffer the tip of the blade - through her body. Yet, there he was, as broken as ever. And he was begging her to leave Midgar, go anywhere, anywhere that no one would find her. Anywhere. Just nowhere near.

And as tenderly as she could, she refused. Because once the hand of Fate has decided the outcome, there is no chance of changing it. She would die for the Planet, by his hand. By his sword.

So it ended at that. Aeris slowly made her way towards the temple, bringing along only her White Materia. It seemed strange that her life would end at such a holy place. Not to mention, being killed by someone who was once all that mattered to her...

But he wasn't the one making the choice. She chose to commit suicide, by placing herself in the situation that she was going to be in. It was sick, twisted, masochistic. But it was right. Not only for her friends, but for the Planet.

_I have to live, Aeris. Please don't make me hate myself every waking moment._

His words haunted her as she prayed. It was as if she could hear him, feel him towering over her...

Her eyes flew open.

It felt safe here.

And as she turned around slowly, she stared into the mirror-like eyes of Sephiroth, the legendary soldier.

"You're early..." She commented, avoiding his entrancing stare.

And in a swift movement, he hoisted her to her feet, with his hands clinging to her shoulders. "I'm not here to kill you... Yet."

And she merely smiled at his response. Little did time matter now. In an endearing gesture, he tipped her chin slightly with a gloved hand. And his eyes found hers, binding them in a magical connection that spoke a thousand silent words.

Nothing mattered anymore. Cloud hasn't come for her, and he never will. Never, ever. But what was real? Sephiroth - he stands, magestically in front of a weakened girl. Any minute, he could have her life - but instead, he chose to plead.

_Don't do this. Please don't do this. You don't have to..._

But who will save the Planet? Meteor will be summoned and this planet will be doomed. Why, why should the world pay for the misdemeanor of one mad man?

"We used to be best friends," She remembered with a wistful smile.

His answer was a lingering silence. He meant so many things he could not say, he would not say, he should not say. But to him, she was and always will be his one enemy. His only enemy and his only love.

His hand let her face fall. She preferred not to look into his unique eyes, exactly like hers... Too dark to be mako, too bright to be normal.

She turned halfway around, her braid swinging behind her.

"My mind is made up. No one shall know... No one shall remember..." She suddenly turned to him, and this time it was her eyes that grasped his desperately. "Once I am gone, by your hands." Her bare, tiny fingers slipped between his black gloves.

_I really don't want you to die..._

"But very well."

He winced at her tenacity. Somewhere deep inside, beyond his unconcious mind, he had longed to leave everything behind and escape to somewhere far with her. Somewhere beside the sea, somewhere where they could gaze out at the sky and the stars... And pretend that the illusions of the lights were the effects of the Northern Lights. And shut everything out, until their minds know only each other and each other only.

Her eyes refused to let go of the bond. The only thing that they could hear was their hearts beating simultaneously, in a steady yet unsettling rhythm, echoing in this empty temple.

"These violent delights have violent ends, and in their triumph die, like fire and powder, which as they kiss consume: the sweetest honey is loathsome in his own deliciousness..." He recited carefully as he leaned in, closer and closer towards her, until the last few words became an inaudible whisper. And then, as briefly as possible, their lips met for the first time and the last time.

And this would soon come to an end. She placed her hands against his cheeks, and in her disoriented vision she saw crystal drops fall from his emerald eyes. In a nanosecond they were gone, along with all traces of sadness in the windows of his soul. His arms crawled around her, and she took one last deep breath as he whispered into her hair...

_Then love-devouring death do what he dare; it is enough I may but call her mine..._


End file.
